


Something There That Wasn't There Before

by DotyTakeThisDown



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Bisexual Caleb Widogast, Blow Jobs, Coming Out, Demisexual Essek Thelyss, Demisexuality, Denial of Feelings, Feelings Realization, Hand Jobs, M/M, Masturbation, Romance Novel, discovering sexuality through erotica
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 13:46:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29901984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DotyTakeThisDown/pseuds/DotyTakeThisDown
Summary: Essek stumbles on a romance novel on Caleb's shelf, along with a few truths about himself.
Relationships: Essek Thelyss/Caleb Widogast
Comments: 8
Kudos: 160





	Something There That Wasn't There Before

**Author's Note:**

> I really don't know what happened here to be honest. This fic is set in the same college AU universe as (If One Could Be Home) They'd Be Already There but stands alone. Like that fic, Caleb and Essek are both physics majors. Same disclaimer applies: I'm still not a physics major and all mentions of it here are based on me hopping around Google.

> _Ten-year reunions_ , Sebastian grouses to himself. _What sadist ever thought this was a good idea?_ A few hours in a gym that smells even more like sweaty socks than he remembers, with people he spent four years desperately wanting to leave behind. His eyes land on the punch bowl at the end of the long table of hors d’oeuvre. Perfect. He’s sure at least two people have already poured tequila into that thing, if it hadn’t been spiked to begin with.
> 
> He’s so focused on the punch that he fails to notice that someone else has beat him to it until he reaches for the ladle and their hands collide. “Oh,” Sebastian says. “I’m sorry.”
> 
> “Grab a cup,” a low rumbling voice says. “I’ll take care of you.”
> 
> Sebastian feels a shiver roll down his spine. He imagines those words whispered in his ear in the dark of his bedroom. Before he can even finish the thought, he gives himself a mental slap. His high school reunion is not the place to pick someone up.
> 
> Most of these people made his life living hell when they found out he was gay at sixteen.
> 
> Sebastian grabs a red solo cup from the stack and holds it steady as the man ladles punch into it. Only then does he look up, following the arm of a navy blue blazer up to long blond hair tied back in a very short ponytail and sparkling blue eyes.
> 
> Sebastian opens his mouth to say thank you, but something else comes out instead. “Averell.”
> 
> In a breath, he’s seventeen again, staring into those same blue eyes with a maelstrom of emotions inside of his chest. He’d never been sure if he wanted to kiss the boy or throw himself off a cliff in those moments.
> 
> “Sebastian.” Averell’s smooth rumble brings him back to the present. His voice seems so much deeper than it did the last time they saw each other ten years ago, at graduation. “How have you been?”

“Hey,” Caleb’s voice enters the room before the man himself. Essek startles, hurrying to shove the book in his hands back onto the shelf. “I thought you were at class.”

“Professor canceled again,” Essek says, turning to block Caleb’s view of the romance novel still sticking out of the shelf behind him. He clears his throat, tips of his ears going purple. “I was looking for your book on cosmic inflation.”

“It’s right here.” Caleb drops his bag on the bed and wanders over. Essek can feel the heat of his body as he retrieves a book two shelves above. A part of his brain wonders if the difference is truly measurable or if he’s only imagining it. “What were you reading?”

“Nothing.”

Caleb smirks as he reaches around Essek and tugs the book from its cock-eyed position. _Let_ _’s Catch Up._ The cover shows two men, both shirtless. One has his hand splayed in a suggestive downward slide over the other's stomach as he stands behind him. “You can borrow it, if you like.”

“I—” Essek swallows hard, feeling more nervous than he ever has in Caleb’s room. He’s borrowed _dozens_ of books before but this feels different, somehow, in a way that he’d rather not examine. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be digging through your things.”

“I did tell you that you were always welcome to my bookshelves.” Caleb offers him both books with a small smile. A strange sensation twists in Essek’s stomach and he hopes these butterflies aren’t about to become a common occurrence. “Do you want to borrow the book or not?”

“Fine.” Essek reaches for them far too slowly, trying to force his face into something disaffected. “I’m—I’m invested, all right?”

“Hey, you don’t have to defend yourself to me.” Caleb smirks as he grabs his probability textbook and steps away at last. Essek tries not to gasp at the release of tension in his chest. “I have an hour until my next class. Lunch?”

Essek seizes the change in subject with both hands. “Sure. I think it’s chicken tenders day.”

“It’s Wednesday.” Caleb tucks his book into his messenger bag and slings it over his shoulder. “It’s _always_ chicken tenders day on Wednesday.”

***

“It’s just a book,” Essek says, staring at _Let_ _’s Catch Up_ where it sits on his coffee table. Face-down. “I read books all the time.”

Granted, most of those books are non-fiction, having more to do with the universe’s relationship with time and space than the relationships between human beings, but he’s not completely bereft. He’s been known to crack open a novel once or twice in his life.

“I’m curious to know what happens,” he says, as he picks it up at last and scans until he finds, _How have you been?_ “That’s all it is.”

> “Good,” Sebastian says. “I’ve been good. I do quality assurance down at the factory now.”
> 
> There’s a little wrinkle between Averell’s eyes. “Which factory?”
> 
> “You haven’t been back in town long, have you?” Sebastian sighs. “There’s only the one left—Vanderhart’s.”
> 
> “God.” Averell wanders away from the punch bowl to get out of the way of their former classmates. Sebastian follows him until they reach an empty table beneath the basketball hoop. “I knew things were bad but I didn’t know they were that bad.”
> 
> “It’s been rough but we’re surviving.” Sebastian tries to smile. “What have you been up to?”
> 
> Averell takes a sip of punch and winces. “Moving around a lot, mostly. Comes with having an army wife.”
> 
> The breath rocks out of Sebastian’s lungs. His eyes dart down to Averell’s left hand. No sign of a ring. “I didn’t know you got married.”
> 
> Averell nods absentmindedly, chancing another sip of punch. “Yeah. About six years ago. We—uh—got divorced last year. She moved to Fort Riley and convinced me not to come along. She said that she didn’t want to rip me away from my life again, when she didn’t think the new assignment would last long. Turns out she didn’t want me around to catch her with her new boyfriend.”
> 
> “Oh fuck. I’m sorry.” Sebastian realizes he’s reaching out like he wants to touch Averell’s arm and aborts halfway there, grabbing onto a _Class of 2010 Reunion_ coaster. There’s a picture of a dinosaur on it, although he’s not sure what inside joke that’s referring to anymore.
> 
> Averell nods, rubbing his left ring finger with his thumb. “That’s why I’m here. I couldn’t stand living in that house, sleeping in _our_ bed. When my mom found out, she convinced me to move back into town—at least until I figure out where I want to end up.”
> 
> “Did you move back in with them?”
> 
> “Hell no.” Averell feigns a shiver at the thought, swallowing a solid gulp of punch. Sebastian tries not to let his eyes linger on the thud of his adam’s apple as he does. “I’m staying at the motel until I can find an apartment.”
> 
> “Do you have any leads?” Sebastian picks up his abandoned cup and takes a sip, sticking out his tongue. He’s pretty sure there’s more alcohol than punch.
> 
> “A couple. Nothing I’m thrilled with, though.”
> 
> Sebastian can feel the words on his tongue before he says them, but not quick enough to stop them. “I have an empty guest bedroom, you know.”
> 
> “I can’t do that to you, Seb,” Averell says, and the sound of his childhood nickname on his childhood crush’s tongue is a kick to Sebastian’s chest. “Don’t worry. I’ve got plenty of money socked away.”
> 
> “And you’re going to need it for a deposit.” Sebastian casts a sour look at the punch, wondering if he’s drunker than he feels. It’s the only explanation for why he’s still talking. “It wouldn’t be any trouble. I never use that bedroom and I work long hours.”
> 
> Averell tilts his head, looking at Sebastian without blinking. _Christ, have his eyelashes always been that long?_ "Are you sure about this?” Averell asks. “You haven’t seen me in ten years. I could be an axe murderer.”
> 
> “ _Are_ you an axe murderer?”
> 
> “No.” Averell grins at him over the rim of his cup. “But that’s exactly what an axe murderer would say.”
> 
> Sitting here, beneath the dim yellow lights of their high school gym, sipping spiked punch and ignoring the rest of the school, it feels like it’s been days, not years. Sebastian’s never been this sure of anything as he opens his mouth and says, “Yes. I’m sure.”

Essek blinks as the chapter comes to an end. He tears off a scrap of paper from his notebook to serve as a bookmark and closes it, staring at the cover. At the tiny part of Sebastian’s lips and the darkness of Averell’s eyes. His skin feels too hot as he thinks about the way Sebastian had noticed the perfectly normal movement of Averell’s adam’s apple as he drank punch.

He’d noticed much the same thing with Caleb yesterday, watching him down a bottle of water in the kitchen after they returned from class. His eyes had caught on that tiny, insignificant movement and he’d wondered what it would feel like if he put his hand there.

“It doesn’t mean anything,” Essek tells himself, setting _Let_ _’s Catch Up_ aside and pulling the book on cosmic inflation into his lap. He’s ready for something a lot less complicated.

***

“Just one chapter,” Essek says, as he crawls into bed and props _Let_ _’s Catch Up_ against his pillow. It’s dark outside, except for the streetlights reflecting off the softly falling snow. “Maybe it’ll help me fall asleep.”

Two hours and many more than one chapters later…

> Every night on his way home from work, Sebastian holds his breath as he turns the corner onto his street. His eyes dart to his driveway, fear pulsing in his chest that this time there’s going to be an extra car there.
> 
> An extra person in his apartment. An extra person in Averell’s bed.
> 
> He breathes a sigh of relief as his eyes find the now-familiar tan Acadia and nothing else. He pulls into his usual spot and shifts into park, letting his forehead drop down to the steering wheel.
> 
> “Get ahold of yourself, Sebastian,” he admonishes, as he always does when the relief washes over him. “Averell can do whatever he wants. He’s your roommate, not your boyfriend.”
> 
> His chest aches at the reminder. He wishes, in the moments before he’d said _I have an empty guest bedroom, you know_ , that he’d taken the time to consider how much having Averell in his space would hurt. He’d thought he’d left his little crush behind years ago. And, in a way, he had. The feelings burning in chest now are so much more than those young butterflies.
> 
> “Fuck,” Sebastian whispers, forcing himself upright. He yanks the keys out of the ignition and reaches for the door. It’s only a matter of time before Averell finds a place he likes and leaves him again. He just has to make it through a few more weeks.
> 
> The house is dark as he pushes open the door and finds his way through the hall. As he passes by the guest bedroom—he tries not to think of it as Averell’s—he freezes at the sound of a soft moan.
> 
> He hates himself as he holds his breath, listening. Another moan, louder this time, with no pain to the sound. Sebastian clenches his jaw as his cock twitches, rapidly on its way to half-hard.
> 
> “Fuck,” Averell hisses, followed by another strangled moan. “Gotta be quiet. Seb will be home any minute.”
> 
> Sebastian bites down on his tongue at the sound of his name in Averell’s breathy voice even as his stomach turns with guilt. He rushes through the last few steps to his bedroom, opening and closing the door as quietly as he can. In the safety of his room, he leans back against the wall, letting out a long sight.
> 
> He shouldn’t have listened, shouldn’t have _kept_ listening. Those moans…Sebastian swears he can hear them straight through his own door. He wants to experience them close-up, for Averell to moan and pant into the curve of his shoulder.
> 
> His cock aches at the very thought of it. He knows he shouldn’t but he can’t help it. He shoves his hand down into his jeans, hissing through his teeth at the feel of dry skin around his cock.
> 
> He pushes off the door, shucking off his jeans and digging around in his drawer until he comes up with a neglected bottle of lube. It’s the work of seconds to sit on the bed, slick up his hand, and wrap it around his cock again.
> 
> “Yes, that’s it,” Sebastian whispers. He doesn’t have the patience to make it last tonight, the memory of Averell’s moans still ringing in his ears. He sets a rapid pace, racing towards his climax.
> 
> He’s too far gone to stop himself from imagining the man with him tonight. Averell on his knees, leaning in to take his cock into his mouth. Sebastian would pull out that ridiculous hair tie and shove his hands into that long hair. He’d tangle his fingers in it, keeping it out of Averell’s face so he could see everything, watch his cock disappear between those cupid’s bow lips.
> 
> “Oh god,” Sebastian croaks as he comes and it’s quiet but not quiet enough for his small house. He bites down on his fist to smother any more noise as he spills over his hand and onto the floor.
> 
> He hardly dares to breathe as he comes back to himself, waiting for the inevitable knock on his door, waiting to see if Averell comes to make sure he’s all right. The house remains silent.
> 
> Sebastian sighs and goes in search of tissues. It’s only as he’s cleaning up the mess that the guilt catches up with him. He’s usually so careful to keep Averell out of his fantasies but—he can’t let it happen again, doesn’t want to imagine the look on his best friend’s face if he ever finds out.
> 
> Sebastian tosses the tissues in the trash and climbs into bed. He closes his eyes but he doesn’t fall asleep for a long time.

Essek doesn’t notice he’s hard until he pauses to turn the page to the next chapter and realizes that his hips are rolling in tiny movements, grinding his cock against the mattress. He jerks himself away, shifting over onto his back. He hurries to shove his bookmark into place before he drops the book at his side.

He shouldn’t be hard right now. There wasn’t—there wasn’t even that much happening in the book. It doesn’t make sense. It could’ve been the friction, pure physical stimulation, but he lays like this all the time and he’s never gotten hard reading a book on dark energy or galaxy filaments. It isn’t like he has any interest in either Sebastian or Averell.

Or men in general.

Probably.

He thinks.

“That’s enough for one day,” Essek says, moving the back to his side table and turning out the light. He ignores the fact that he’s still hard, running physics calculations in his head until he falls asleep.

***

Essek is certain he’s lost control of his life but he can’t quite pinpoint the moment it happens. He’s meant to be studying for his Introductory Quantum Mechanics exam tomorrow, but instead he’s sitting on the couch, nose buried in _Let_ _’s Catch Up._

He needs to know what happens to Averell and Sebastian. He needs to know if Sebastian ever confesses how he feels, if Averell finds a new place, if they end up together. He feels more invested in this fictional relationship than any of the very short-lived ones that he’s found himself in over the years.

As long as he keeps reading, he doesn’t have to think about why that is.

So he turns another page.

> Sebastian wishes that he’d thought to turn on a light as the movie comes to an end, leaving himself and Averell sitting in the darkened living room, only a scant few inches of loveseat between them. He swears that he can feel the heat of Averell’s skin. If Sebastian wanted to reach across and find Averell’s shoulder, it would be easy.
> 
> And god he wants to.
> 
> “Should we watch another?” Averell asks, his voice too loud in the darkness. “For old time’s sake?”
> 
> Sebastian laughs. “I have work in the morning.”
> 
> “So?” Averell’s grin is practically audible. “Then it really would be old time’s sake.”
> 
> “Remember when you fell asleep in history class?”
> 
> “How could I forget?” Averell’s arm stretches across the back of the couch. Sebastian swears he can feel the tips of his fingers brushing against his hair. It’s maddening. “The nurse wanted me to get tested for narcolepsy!”
> 
> “And then she called me to the office to confirm that we stayed up all night watching _Lord of the Rings_.” Sebastian laughs. “Somehow I don’t think my boss will be as understanding.”
> 
> “Probably not.” Averell falls silent, although the couch shifts beneath him. Sebastian opens his mouth to put an end to this strange moment, to say his good night, leave the couch, and go to bed. Then, Averell says, “Do you remember the night we watched _Iron Man_?”
> 
> Sebastian’s heart stops and he bites down on his tongue to keep from saying, “Every moment.”
> 
> He remembers the two of them on his bed, propped up on their elbows to get a better look at the TV. Averell’s shoulder brushing against his, their hands bumping into each other as they fought over the popcorn bowl. Looking over at Averell and wondering if he could lick the salt from his lips.
> 
> He remembers Averell saying, “I wonder what kissing feels like” and himself saying, “There’s only one way to find out.”
> 
> He remembers kissing his best friend and never speaking of it again.
> 
> “I remember,” Sebastian says, long after the silence has already stretched on for too long.
> 
> “I’ve been thinking about it a lot, lately.” Averell’s voice is quiet, cautious. His fingers tighten against the back of the couch. “We never—we never talked about it. Even when I told you that Emily was my first kiss.”
> 
> Sebastian’s mouth runs dry. He reaches for his glass of water, wishing it was something stronger. “I thought you didn’t want to talk about it.”
> 
> “I didn’t, not then.” Averell shifts on the couch, sliding a couple inches closer. Sebastian doesn’t dare move a muscle. “I thought if I pretended I didn’t like it, then the feeling would go away.”
> 
> Sebastian almost flinches. “What—what feelings?”
> 
> Averell sighs and Sebastian realizes he’s definitely not imagining fingertips playing at his hair. Averell’s hand is there, fingertips tangling in the strands at the nape of his neck. “My feelings for you.”
> 
> Sebastian hardly dares to ask, “Did they?”
> 
> “No, not really.”
> 
> Sebastian leans into the touch, hand reaching out until he finds Averell’s thigh. The muscle flexes beneath his touch but the man doesn’t move away. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
> 
> “I was scared. I didn’t want to lose you as a friend and then—I was a coward, Seb. I saw what you went through after you came out. Fuck. I didn’t want that to be me.”
> 
> Sebastian nods, dragging his mind away from the memories of whispers and bullying. He focuses on the dark outline of Averell’s face and again wishes he’d thought to turn on a light. “What happened, after you moved away? Why did you stop talking to me?”
> 
> “I didn’t—” Averell shakes his head, fingers trembling against the back of Sebastian’s neck. “I didn’t mean to. I just didn’t know how, you know? A day turned into a week and then before I knew it ten years had gone by and I was looking at you over a punch bowl. Why didn’t you reach out?”
> 
> Sebastian swallows hard against the fear welling in his throat. “I thought you didn’t want me anymore. I thought you hated me.”
> 
> “Fuck, Seb. You were my best friend. Still are, as a matter of fact. I could never hate you.”
> 
> Sebastian pauses and he can’t stop the question from bubbling to his lips. “How do you feel about me now?”
> 
> Averell’s hand slides, curving around the back of Sebastian’s neck. Sebastian leans forward, turning his head as Averell crosses the distance between them. “I feel like this,” he says, before he kisses him.

Essek is pulled back to reality by the aching in his cheeks. He’s grinning so wide his face hurts. Warmth bubbles in his chest, joy that these two characters finally found each other and found happiness together.

He closes his eyes, mind summoning up an image of long red hair and a strong jaw mostly hidden behind matching stubble. He wonders what it would feel like to run his fingers over it, to press his lips to it. He wants to know if it’s as soft as it looks.

“Caleb,” he whispers, fear and guilt rolling over him all at once. This is his _best friend_. He shouldn’t be thinking about him like this. At least—at least not without knowing that Caleb feels the same way.

Sure, it worked out for Averell and Sebastian, at least so far, but that’s _fiction_. Caleb isn’t into him, is never going to be into him. Besides, he isn’t into anyone, not like that, never has been. It’s just the book, bleeding into his life and making him wonder about things he’s never thought about before.

Essek tosses the book aside and reaches for his textbook. Caleb is his best friend, nothing else, and he isn’t going to do anything that might jeopardize that. He never should’ve agreed to borrow this damn book.

***

Essek shoves _Let_ _’s Catch Up_ into his messenger bag in the morning. Sebastian and Averell are together. His curiosity should be satisfied. He shouldn’t need to know what happens in the last half. He’ll just return it to Caleb and then everything can go back to normal.

He doesn’t hand over the book when he slides into his usual desk next to Caleb. Or when class comes to an end and they begin to pack up their stuff. Or when they walk out of class together, Caleb spouting some sort of ridiculous theory on bullet clusters. Or when Caleb pauses and says “See you later” in the moment before they go their separate ways.

“I want to tell you something,” Essek says, watching Caleb’s back as he walks away.

***

Essek growls as he digs through his messenger bag. His probability equation isn’t coming out right and he can’t for the life of him figure out why. His own inadequacy burns in his mind, making his skin itch.

His fingers find the soft rustle of paper. He pulls _Let_ _’s Catch Up_ from his bag and stares at it. It’s been three days since he decided to return it to Caleb, three days of ignoring every opportunity to actually do it. If he’s going to keep it, he might as well finish reading it.

There’s no harm in a little distraction, he considers, as he flips through until he finds the page he left off on.

> “I feel like this,” he says, before he kisses him.
> 
> Sebastian freezes, feeling like he’s sixteen again, stiff and uncertain what to do with his hands. Averell’s lips are soft and sure, persistent as they coax his open. His tongue slides against Sebastian’s and—oh. They never made it this far, not then.
> 
> Sebastian’s hand reaches out until he finds Averell’s belt loops, hooks his fingers through two of them and pulls. It doesn’t take much for Averell to get the idea and pull away just long enough to straddle Sebastian’s thighs.
> 
> “Fuck,” Sebastian murmurs, before Averell captures his lips again. Gone is the cautious man that he’s used to. Averell’s hands press into his shoulders, holding him down against the back of the couch as he conquers his mouth. Sebastian doesn’t even try to keep up with the onslaught, rests his hands on Averell’s hips while the rest of him goes boneless.
> 
> Sebastian’s kissed more than a few men over the years, some of them very good at it, but none of them can hold a candle to Averell, right here. His lips, his tongue, are urgent and gentle in turns. He nips down on Sebastian’s lip hard enough to hurt, then soothes away the pain with a swipe of his tongue.
> 
> Averell rolls his hips, grinding down. Sebastian pulls out of the kiss with a startled moan, the friction rocking up his spine. Averell pulls back just enough to give him room to breathe, although he doesn’t stay away long. His head ducks down, pressing lips and teeth down the length of Sebastian’s neck.
> 
> “God,” Sebastian groans, digging his fingers into Averell’s hips. “What are we doing?”
> 
> “Making up for lost time,” Averell rasps into Sebastian’s ear, tugging the lobe between his teeth. “Would you like to join me? I feel like I’m doing all the work here.”
> 
> “Can’t have that.” Sebastian shoves his hands underneath Averell’s shirt, pushing it up around his chest. His scrawny days of youth are gone, replaced by a smattering of soft hair and lean muscle. Sebastian runs his hands over Averell’s chest, his fingertips catching over his nipples. Averell moans into the crook of Sebastian’s neck and his hips jerk forward. It’s so close to Sebastian’s fantasy—it feels like months ago, now—that he very nearly comes right there in his pants.
> 
> Averell jerks out of Sebastian’s hold, almost falling backwards off the couch in his haste. Fear jolts through Sebastian like lightning. He opens his mouth to ask what’s wrong, what he’s done, but the words catch in his throat as Averell drops to his knees.
> 
> “Are you sure?” Sebastian asks, as Averell’s hands slide up the inside of his thighs. “You don’t have—”
> 
> “I know,” Averell interrupts, not a trace of hesitation in his voice. His hands are steady as he draws down Sebastian’s zipper and tugs on his waistband. Sebastian’s brain catches up with his cock and he lifts his hips, letting Averell draw his jeans to the floor.
> 
> Averell nuzzles at the inside of Sebastian’s knee before pressing a line of open-mouthed kisses up his thigh. His hand wraps around the base of Sebastian’s cock, guiding it closer. His tongue flicks out, circling around the crown.
> 
> “Ave,” Sebastian shouts, his head falling back against the couch as his hands scrabble for purchase on the cushions. He can’t look down, is sure if he catches even a glimpse of Averell’s silhouette taking his cock into his mouth, he’ll be done for.
> 
> “You look so good,” Averell says, before he presses the tip of his tongue against Sebastian’s slit. “Taste so good.”
> 
> Sebastian loses any hope of replying when Averell opens his mouth and takes the head of his cock inside. He lets it rest on his tongue for a moment, like he’s testing the weight of it. He releases it with a soft popping sound before brushing his lips up the whole length of the underside. It’s a teasing touch, too light to bring Sebastian any closer to the edge, and he lets out a whimper.
> 
> “You’ve done this before,” Sebastian says, and he doesn’t mean for it to sound like an accusation but it does.
> 
> “No, but I’ve thought about it a lot and I know exactly where I want to start.”
> 
> Without waiting for another moment, Averell guides the head of Sebastian’s cock back into his mouth. He shifts his weight on his knees like he’s steadying himself and takes another inch.
> 
> Sebastian takes a breath to reassure him that anything he wants, however much he wants to take, is fine, but Averell hollows his cheeks around him and sucks. The words are lost to a long moan. He brings his hand to Averell’s hair, pulls on the tie holding his ponytail together until it comes free.
> 
> Averell’s hair tumbles in waves around his face and Sebastian shoves his hand into it, holding it back. He doesn’t want to hold Averell in place, just wants to keep touching him. Wants to feel the steady nod of his head as he thrusts, wants to know that this is real and not just a particularly vivid dream.
> 
> What Averell can’t take in his mouth, he covers with his hand and strokes in time, letting his own spit smooth the way. It’s filthy and hot, and Sebastian can already feel his balls tighten. He bites down on his bottom lip, trying to hold his orgasm at bay. He doesn’t want to come, not yet, not when he’s only just got Averell on his knees. He wants to savor every moment but Averell clearly has other plans.
> 
> He takes a deep breath through his nose and slides another inch of Sebastian’s cock into his mouth, the head barely bumping at the back of his throat.
> 
> “Oh fuck,” Sebastian growls, tugging hard on Averell’s hair. “Stop, stop, I’m going to come.”
> 
> Averell pulls back the moment he says _stop_ and then huffs a laugh. “You can, you know,” he says, the rasp of his voice going straight to Sebastian’s cock. “That’s kind of the point.”
> 
> “I wasn’t sure you’d want to—”
> 
> Averell presses his teeth into the inside of Sebastian’s thigh, laughing at the way the muscle twitches. “I want to know what it’s like.”
> 
> “Oh,” Sebastian chokes out and nearly comes on the spot. “Okay. If you—if you want to.”
> 
> “I can take it, Seb,” Averell says, before he ducks down and swallows Sebastian’s cock down once more. He only manages about half the length before he has to wrap his hand around the rest, but it’s enough, it’s perfect because it’s Averell.
> 
> Averell hollows his cheeks and presses his tongue in circles around the crown. Sebastian barely has time to babble out a warning before his orgasm crashes over him. Averell makes a startled sputtering sound and pulls back, come spilling from his mouth.
> 
> “I’m sorr—” Sebastian starts, reaching for Averell and grabbing onto his shoulder.
> 
> Averell holds up a hand to silence him, swallowing hard and sticking his tongue out. “You don’t need to apologize. I just—well, I didn’t know what it tastes like and now I do.”
> 
> Sebastian leans forward, cupping his cheek and brushing away the trail of come dripping down Averell’s chin. “It takes some getting used to.”
> 
> “I look forward to getting used to it.” Averell smirks as he looks up. The heat in his eyes makes Sebastian’s oversensitive cock twitch, even though he’s years past the ability to go another round so soon.
> 
> “Now,” Sebastian says, grabbing Averell by the collar and pulling him up into his lap, “what shall I do with you?”

Essek shifts, intending to get into a more comfortable position as he turns the page. His jeans tighten and he hisses air through his teeth as his cock aches. He frowns down at the bulge in his pants. He can’t remember the last time he allowed himself the indulgence, or even the last time he really _wanted_ to. It’s a rarity for him is the point and he doesn’t care to change that now.

Even though he’s so hard it hurts.

A shower, that’ll take care of it. A nice cold shower. He’ll think about how to fix this problem with his equations and nothing else.

Essek sets his bookmark into place and leaves _Let_ _’s Catch Up_ on his coffee table. Clothes trail in his wake as he makes his way from the living room to the bathroom.

He turns the water as cold as he can stand and steps inside. Goosebumps race along his skin at the shock of it and he wraps his arms around himself. His cock begins to flag almost immediately but he waits until he’s completely soft before he turns the water up to a more comfortable warmth.

_Okay, so, calculating the probability of a solar flare_ _…_

He closes his eyes, running his fingers through his hair. His imagination slips to fingers pulling a tie from long hair, but in place of Averell’s fictional blond locks, he sees striking red. His eyes shoot open as his cock begins to harden again.

He shouldn’t—he can’t—he doesn’t want—

It’s just the book. He’s just thinking about the book and his mind is slipping to the person he can imagine best. Caleb. Because of course it is, Essek sees him every day. It doesn’t _mean_ anything. If he ignores his erection, it’ll just go away.

He closes his eyes again and shoves his face into the spray. It courses over his skin and, this time, he hears “ _I_ _’ve thought about it a lot and I know exactly where I want to start_ ” in Caleb’s dusky German accent.

“Damn it,” Essek growls. His skin feels too hot and too tight. He’s fully hard now, the water pounding down on him a strange and not entirely pleasant sensation. He turns his back to the shower, wrapping a hand around his cock.

He tries to think of nothing at all as he strokes himself, the way he normally would, but he can’t stop his imagination. A flash of curved lips. Long red hair wrapped around his fingers. A pair of dark eyes. It’s far easier than it should be for Essek to imagine Caleb standing behind him, chest pressed to his back, arms wrapped around his waist. Caleb’s hand would be sure on his cock, more confident even than his own.

“Caleb,” Essek breathes, in spite of himself, as his strokes quicken. He wonders if Caleb would patiently wait his turn or if he would rut gently against the small of Essek’s back.

With a jolt, he wishes he could find out.

He wants to know what it would feel like, to have Caleb’s full attention focused on him, waiting until he’s finished before seeking his own pleasure. Alternatively, Caleb’s cock pressed against the small of his back—or would it be the crease of his ass?—grinding there to give himself just a tease of friction.

He wants it all, wants to chase each hypothesis into theory.

“You can come,” he imagines Caleb growling in his ear. He spills over his hand and across the shower floor, opening his eyes just in time to watch his come rinse away. His hand shakes as he unfolds his fingers and leans against the shower wall. It’s cold against his overheated skin.

Normally, after he comes, he feels relaxed, maybe even a little bored. Now, guilt burns like acid inside his throat, squeezing his lungs with iron bands. He’s _never_ imagined anyone when he comes. He’s definitely never imagined Caleb.

He doesn’t want to think about what would happen if Caleb knew, the disgust in his eyes.

“I won’t do it again,” he swears, as he turns off the shower. “It was a mistake. I won’t let it happen again.”

***

Essek doesn’t move _Let_ _’s Catch Up_ from the coffee table as the days stretch on. He doesn’t think about it, or his mishap in the shower. He doesn’t let his eyes linger on Caleb’s lips. He doesn’t wonder what it would feel like for Caleb’s wet hair to brush the tops of his shoulders. He definitely doesn’t wonder if the touch of his palm would be rough or smooth.

“Are you okay?” Caleb asks, in the middle of their usual Thursday afternoon study session in the library. Books and notes are spread across the full length of the normally-four-person table. “You look a little…flushed?”

Essek ducks his head, highlighting an entirely useless sentence in his textbook. He hasn’t been staring at the same paragraph for the last ten minutes, thinking about the spread of Caleb’s fingers and wondering how well they’d fit between his own.

It’s ridiculous, the number of things he hasn’t been doing. It’ll pass. It will. He just needs to keep redirecting his thoughts into safer territory.

“I’m fine,” Essek says, without looking up. “Do you have those notes on dirac string?”

“Here you are.” Caleb hands them over, one eyebrow quirked up in a question that Essek doesn’t know how to answer.

“Thanks.”

Caleb sighs softly and paper rustles as he rearranges his notes. “You know you can talk to me, right?”

Essek meets his eyes, then, and regrets it almost immediately. There’s genuine worry there on Caleb’s face and it makes Essek feel guilty just to think about how he’s the cause of it. “We are talking, Caleb. You just spent ten minutes telling me your thoughts on Einstein-Rosen bridges.”

“I mean—“ Caleb pauses, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. “I don’t just mean _class_. Forget I said anything.”

There’s a strange warmth billowing just below Essek’s breastbone. It pushes against his ribs and threatens to crawl up into his throat. For a terrifying moment, he feels like the truth is going to spill out of him.

He swallows hard and the feeling fades. “I’m fine, Caleb. Really.”

***

Essek sits on the edge of the couch, elbows braced on his knees, chin resting on his interlaced fingers. _Let_ _’s Catch Up_ stares back at him. He has a hypothesis that if he finishes the book and returns it, everything will go back to normal.

The problem is there’s only one way to test a hypothesis.

He feels a strange sense of anticipation as he picks up the book and settles down on the couch. He isn’t sure if it’s due to the prospect of finishing it or having to look Caleb in the eye when he returns it.

Maybe he can just keep it forever, hope that Caleb forgets that he ever owned it. Or, better yet, maybe he can slip it back onto Caleb’s shelf while he’s at class. That seems like the best option.

Ignoring the tightening sensation in his throat, he flips to his bookmark. There’s only about forty pages to go. He can do this. It’s just a book.

> Sebastian knows that something is wrong before Averell even steps into the house. He hears the rumble of the man’s pick-up long before his boots on the front step, his key in the lock, the creak of the door opening.
> 
> “Sebastian? His name trembles in Averell’s mouth. His heart sinks as he gets up from the couch and meets him in the hall.
> 
> Averell is smiling but the light of it doesn’t meet his eyes. He holds up a shiny new key, one Sebastian doesn’t recognize, certainly one that doesn’t belong to this house. Sebastian’s heart plummets through the floor and into the bedrock below.
> 
> “A place opened up in the Pemberly complex,” Averell says, like an apology. “I wanted—I wanted to tell you that I was considering it, but if I didn’t jump on it right away, someone else would have.”
> 
> “You’re—“ Sebastian barely recognizes the sound of his own voice. It’s too low, too gruff. He clears his throat and tries again. “You’re moving out?”
> 
> “Yeah.” Averell hangs his coat on a hook next to the door, not looking at him. “That was always the plan, wasn’t it?”
> 
> “Sure. I just thought—“ That things had changed. That, this time, he wouldn’t be left behind. “I’m happy for you. Pemberly is a great neighborhood.”
> 
> “Thanks.” Averell looks at him, the corners of his smile strained. “Can you help me load my stuff up?”
> 
> “Now?”
> 
> Averell shrugs. “Doesn’t have to be right now, but I’d like to at least start moving tonight.”
> 
> A cold chill creeps down the back of Sebastian’s neck. He imagines Averell’s books disappearing from his coffee table, his organic creamer from the fridge, his silk sheets from the guest room bed, his presence from Sebastian’s life.
> 
> “What if you didn’t?” Sebastian blurts out before he can stop himself. He winces, but the damage is already done. Averell’s eyes widen in surprise as they meet his.
> 
> “You’re working double shifts most of this week, I’m not sure there’s going to be a better time.”
> 
> “No, what if you didn’t move?” Sebastian hates the desperation in his own voice but he can’t stop himself. He won’t lose Averell, not again. “What if you stayed here with me?”
> 
> Averell’s face soften as he stumbles a step closer. “I already paid the deposit.”
> 
> “You haven’t even moved in yet, surely you can get it back. My sister knows the owner of Pemberly, maybe she can—“
> 
> “Oh, Seb.” A tear slips down the side of Averell’s face as he takes another step. “I wish I’d had time to talk to you about this before I signed the lease. Me—here—it was never supposed to be forever.”
> 
> Sebastian’s lips tremble as they part around a choked sob. “Please don’t leave me.”
> 
> Averell cups his cheek with one hand, cutting off his words with the press of his thumb against his lips. “Just because I’m moving out doesn’t mean I’m leaving you.”
> 
> “But you—“
> 
> Averell guides Sebastian’s chin down, standing on his toes slightly to brush a kiss across his forehead. “I’m sorry. You tried to talk to me about it—to ask if I was still looking—and I was a coward. I’m always a fucking coward, Seb.”
> 
> “You’re not a—"
> 
> Averell shushes him, pressing their foreheads together. “I’ve fucked up so many moments between us, both when we were kids and now. I want to do this—us—right this time. I want to take you out on our first date. I want to kiss you on the front porch and take the wrong turn driving home because it’s all I can think about. I want us to end up with drawers at each others’ places. And then, when we’re ready, I want you to ask me to move in with you.”
> 
> Sebastian huffs a laugh. “You’re not going to ask me to move in with you?”
> 
> Averell’s chest trembles under the touch of Sebastian’s hand. “I love Pemberly but you and I both know that you’re never leaving this house. I wouldn’t ask you to.”
> 
> “It is a nice house.”
> 
> “Yes, it is.” Averell leans in until their lips are almost pressed together, until Sebastian can feel every hitch in his breath. “What do you say?”
> 
> “Zisa’s. Six o’clock. Friday night. Our first date.” Sebastian’s hands find Averell’s hips, holding on tight. Relief pools in his chest as it hits him. He’s not leaving, not forever, not this time.
> 
> “It’s a date.”

Essek’s whole body buzzes with warmth as he closes the book. He isn’t sure what he’s meant to do now. He’s glad that Averell and Sebastian made it work in the end, but he still feels like he has questions.

Did it work forever? Did Sebastian ask Averell to move in with him, or did something else get in their way? Did they truly get their happily ever after?

Essek scowls at himself. Of course they didn’t, that’s not how life turns out in the end. He gathers up _Let_ _’s Catch Up_ along with Caleb’s book on cosmic inflation and turns on his phone. It’s 3:02, on a Wednesday, which means Caleb should be in Modern Physics. If he hurries, he can return booth books right to his room and never have to speak of this again.

Essek doesn’t knock, just tries the door and finds it unlocked. Fjord’s sitting at the kitchen table, spreading mayonnaise on a sandwich.

“Caleb’s not here,” Fjord says, without looking up.

Essek doesn’t bother with the question of how he knows that it’s him. “I’m just here to return a book.”

Fjord waves a hand at the hallway in a _be my guest_ sort of way. Essek doesn’t say another word as he ducks into the hallway and makes his way to Caleb’s room. He allows himself the most cursory of glances at the way the sheets are turned down and the strands of red hair sticking to the pillowcase before he turns his attention to the bookcase.

He returns both books to their empty slots on the shelves, grabs a book on Maxwell’s equations as an after-thought, and lets out a sigh of relief as he ducks back out of the room.

There. Now he can finally move on.

***

“Fjord told me you came by to return a book,” Caleb says, the two of them eating turkey sandwiches at Essek’s breakfast bar.

Essek nearly chokes on a pickle, eyes watering as he manages to clear his throat. “I did.”

“What’d you think?”

“I think the author was oversimplifying the concept of the horizon problem at times but overall it was a solid piece. I’d like to read their work on loop quantum gravity if they ever deign to publish it.”

“I’ll let you know if I hear anything.” Caleb’s smirks at him. “But what did you think about _Let_ _’s Catch Up_?”

“Oh.” Essek spins his pickle between two fingers. He’s hesitant to take another bite, afraid that Caleb might say something else and actually kill him. “It was good.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

Essek nods and, desperate for a change of subject, adds, “I also stole your book on Maxwell’s equations while I was there.”

“It’s not stealing if you have permission, but read it quick. I need it for a paper due next week.”

Essek smiles down at his plate. “I always do.”

***

With the book in question out of Essek’s life, he expects the feelings to fade, for everything to go back to the way it was before he pulled the paperback from Caleb’s shelf.

It doesn’t.

If anything, it gets worse.

His eyes linger on Caleb’s mouth when he speaks and his fingers when he writes. When Caleb stands up in the middle of a study session and stretches his arms over his head, the movement exposing a strip of skin just above his waistband, and Essek’s cock practically twitches, he wants to scream.

He’s never felt this way before, doesn’t understand what it _means_ , or what he’s meant to do about it.

***

Essek is only half-listening as Caleb rambles about his theories on mirror stars and whether or not he can write an entire paper on them. Mostly he’s thinking about, _“I thought if I pretended I didn’t like it, then the feelings would go away_ ,” the words burned into his brain alongside Einstein’s theory of relativity.

“—possible that mirror stars appear similar to white dwarfs—” Caleb says, unmindful of the panic blooming in Essek’s chest.

“Caleb?” Essek blurts out, interrupting him. “Can I ask you something?”

Caleb pauses, forehead creasing in confusion like he hasn’t realized he’s been talking without interruption for almost five minutes. “Of course.”

“ _Let_ _’s Catch Up_.” Essek pauses, unsure how to go on, unsure of how to change the subject now that they’re here. “Are you—do you—is that something—why do—fuck. I don’t know how to say this. Forget I said anything. Tell me more about white dwarfs.”

“Essek,” Caleb says, as gently as he can, “are you asking me if I own that book because I’m gay?”

Essek coughs, choking on his own breath. “Well, not quite, but—yes, I am.”

A flush rises on Caleb’s cheeks but he says, as easily as stating his major, “I’m bi.”

“Oh.”

Caleb blinks at him as the silence stretches between them. Then, “Are you asking for any particular reason?”

“I think—I mean—I don’t know—“ Essek stammers, eyes fixed on the coffee table between them, too terrified of what he might give away if he looks into Caleb’s eyes.

“You can enjoy romance novels, you know.” Caleb pauses, his notes trembling slightly as he shuffles them around. “We can stop talking about this, if you want to, but I’m here if you need anyone to talk to. Or if you have any questions.”

Essek glares at his textbook, like it’s string theory’s fault he’s having trouble stringing together his emotions. He wants to change the subject, wants to ask about using an X-ray observatory to detect mirror stars, but when he opens his mouth something else entirely comes out.

“I’ve never really thought about it before—sexuality, I mean. I thought either the right girl would come along or she wouldn’t and that would be that.” He trails his fingers over the dotted lines of a Hertzsprung-Russell diagram. “I had more important things to worry about, anyway.”

“Are you thinking about it now?”

Essek nods and traces the diagram again. He doesn’t want to say this next part, but he’s the one who started this conversation and it feels too late to stop it. “I didn’t realize that you could want someone so badly and never even realize it, until Averell.”

“Oh.” Caleb sits back, settling himself more firmly on the floor.

“Yeah.” Essek’s mouth is so dry his tongue is sticking to the roof of it. He reaches for his glass of Mountain Dew and gulps it down.

“Can I tell you a story?”

Essek looks up at that as he puts his glass down again, lips parted. “If you want.”

“In high school, I dated this girl—”

“Astrid,” Essek interrupts, regretting it when Caleb’s eyes flicker up to meet his. “You told me about her once.”

Caleb swallows hard but he doesn’t look away. “That’s right. I loved her, thought we’d get married someday, but—well, you know what happened. Anyway, we were both friends with Eadwulf. Whenever I was around him, I’d get really nervous. I wanted him to like me, from the first moment we met. I didn’t even notice what it meant—or maybe I ignored it, because I didn’t want to see it—not until we all went away to college and grew apart.”

“You had a crush on him.”

The corners of Caleb’s mouth turn up in a soft smile. “Yeah, I did.”

Essek considers that in silence for a minute before he says, “Do you wish you had noticed?”

“Maybe, maybe not.” Caleb shrugs as his smile disappears. “It probably wouldn’t have changed anything, then, but it would’ve been nice for me to know myself sooner.”

“Yeah.” Essek runs his shaking hands down his jeans. “I know what you mean.”

“If you don’t want to talk about it, I have more books, if you’d like them.”

Essek feels a shiver run down his spine. “I don’t know—”

“Some of them are non-fiction.” Caleb smirks at him, tapping the physics textbook in front of him. “They’re not _all_ about hot guys having sex.”

Essek rolls his eyes but he nods. “I’d like that.”

***

Essek devours the books—non-fiction and romance novels alike—along with some internet research of his own. He dedicates himself to the study of sexuality with the same thoroughness he does physics, hoping that there might be something to help make sense of the weird tangle of emotions in his chest.

The only problem is sexuality seems to contain just as many mysteries as astrophysics.

He keeps looking. He goes to the library and checks out every book he can find on sexual orientation. He browses forums and blog posts for first-hand accounts. He stares at a flyer advertising meetings for an LGBT group on campus before he walks away, shaking his head. He isn’t ready for that, not yet.

He doesn’t even know if he is…whatever he is.

He’s scrolling down a list of sexualities and their definitions when he finds it.

_Demisexual people only experience sexual attraction with someone they have an emotional bond with._

“Oh,” Essek says, the truth of it hitting him like a warm punch to the chest. He thinks about listening to his classmates talking about the random hook-up they had over the weekend, or the things they’d let that hockey player or another do to them, and how none of those things sounded appealing to him.

He thinks about his short-lived relationships—two in high school, one in college—and how the supposed time had never felt right with any of them. How they’d all left him, saying “We’re better off as friends” but all of them realizing that they didn’t actually have enough in common to be friends.

It isn’t like that, not with Caleb. Their lives fit together so easily when they met in Intro to Physics, a class that they both could’ve tested out of but were required to take anyway. He remembers Caleb asking if he wanted to join him for lunch, and lunch turning into a four-hour study session in the library, and the study session turning into dinner.

He remembers the two of them parting ways outside the dining hall, and how much he’d wished that they could just stay there all night, talking about wormholes and dark energy and the virial theorem. He can’t pinpoint the exact moment they became friends because it feels like it was inevitable, that they always have been.

_An emotional bond._

Okay, okay, but he’s read about the differences between sexual attraction and romantic attraction. The evidence suggests that he’s demiromantic but—

Essek thinks of that day in the shower, picturing Caleb’s arms wrapped around him as he came. He thinks about all the times he’s looked at Caleb since, wondering what his fingers would feel like pressed against his skin. The image of Caleb sliding into his lap, pressing him down into the couch, capturing his mouth in a kiss is far too easy to conjure. Essek’s cock stirs in his jeans.

_Sexual attraction._

“Oh,” Essek repeats, and his chest aches with a much-less-warm punch. His mind races through the calculations to find the truth: He’s in love with Caleb and he hadn’t even noticed.

***

Now that Essek has come to this conclusion, the follow-up question is what to do with the information.

He drags a fresh notebook out of his bag and into his lap, clicks his favorite pen.

_Option #1: Confess to Caleb._

That’s it, he could tell Caleb everything—but then what? The idea of losing Caleb as his best friend, of going back to being alone, makes him feel like his heart is being squeezed.

Besides, what would he even say? He could ask Caleb out on a date, but they do date-like activities all the time. They go to dinner. They go to movies. They watch Netflix while working on their term papers. If he asks Caleb out, will he even understand the gravity of what he’s asking?

_Option #2: Say nothing._

He could keep his mouth shut and just let things be the way they are. These feelings will go away eventually, right? He’s read dozens of stories online of people who carry feelings that aren’t reciprocated. Surely they don’t walk around feeling like this for the rest of their lives.

They find someone else. They move on.

He tries to imagine himself holding someone else’s hand, kissing them, but he can’t. Instead, all he can see is Caleb kissing some faceless stranger and the squeezed-heart feeling returns.

“Fuck,” Essek whispers, and shoves the notebook to the floor.

***

No matter how hard Essek tries, it doesn’t get easier. Whenever they’re in class, walking across campus, sitting on the floor studying together, he can feel the words pressing against the back of his teeth, begging to be spoken.

He thinks about asking someone what to do—almost joins a half-dozen different forums to do just that—but he can’t bring himself to commit the words to the everlasting stone of the internet.

The only people he knows that he can imagine being comfortable asking a question like this are also Caleb’s friends. The idea of walking up to Jester and asking, “How do I tell Caleb I’m in love with him?” makes him want to turn himself inside out.

He comes the closest to asking Yasha when Caleb steps outside to grab the pizza they’d ordered. Just when he opens his mouth to ask, “So, how did you tell Beau that you liked her?” the woman in question bursts through the door like she’s trying to break it down. He can’t get the nerve back after that, not when he’s too busy trying to calm the racing of his heart.

He toys with the idea of asking Caleb, pretending that he’s talking about someone else, but he isn’t sure which idea is worse: Seeing Caleb with thinly veiled jealousy over some imaginary person, or Caleb casually giving him advice and sending him on his way. Either way, he’s not fond of it.

So Essek says nothing and suffers.

***

They’re watching _Through the Wormhole_ when Essek makes the mistake of reaching for the popcorn bowl without checking first. His fingers brush against Caleb’s and he jerks his hand away like he’s been shocked.

Caleb glances at him but doesn’t say anything as he grabs a handful of popcorn. Essek waits to make sure he’s settled before he tries again. He starts to relax again, letting Morgan Freeman’s soothing voice wash over him.

He jumps when Caleb grabs the controller and hits pause.

“Are you okay?” Caleb asks, turning towards him. “Did I do something wrong?”

“Of course not,” Essek blurts out before he can stop himself. “I mean, I’m fine. You didn’t do anything.”

“You sure? You’ve been kind of—“ Caleb pauses, his jaw working as he tries to find the words. He settles on, “Weird lately.”

“Thanks, Caleb.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.” He sighs, the air hissing between his teeth. “Something’s changed. You don’t stay over as late anymore. You hardly look at me. Last week, you said you read a paper suggesting that EM and gravity share the same number of dimensions.”

“I did read that paper, though.”

“We were talking about the DGP model!”

“That model is inconclusive,” Essek mutters, wincing.

He doesn’t stay late anymore because all he can think about is that time they fell asleep on the couch and he woke up with Caleb’s head on his shoulder. He’s afraid to look at Caleb for more than a few seconds, in case he gives himself away. And he’d been too distracted by the movements of Caleb’s lips to actually listen to what he was saying.

“I agree, but you’re avoiding the subject.” Caleb’s knee slides into his field of vision, threatening to push the popcorn bowl off the couch. “This isn’t about me being—”

“No!” Essek sighs. He tries to look up, to meet Caleb’s gaze, but looking at the fear there burns. “I’m fine. I’ve just been a little tired lately. Between my thesis and lab hours with Dr. Sa Ord…”

He doesn’t mention that he’s tired because he keeps waking up from dreams about Caleb in the middle of the night, already half-hard. He stares at the TV, mentally willing the documentary to start playing again. Maybe then Caleb will drop it.

He doesn’t. Of course he doesn’t.

“You told me,” Caleb says, slowly, “that you didn’t know that you could want someone so badly and never even realize it until you read _Let_ _’s Catch Up_. Essek, do you have a crush on someone?”

There it is. Just like that, Essek’s worst fear is laid out between them and he doesn’t have the strength to lie anymore. He closes his eyes as he says, “Yes.”

“Do I know them?”

Essek bites down on his tongue to keep from laughing. The opportunity to lie spreads out in front of him like a fork in the road. He could say no, make up some fictional person, pretend to be pining after them until whatever this thing is inside of him passes.

He could do that, he almost does, but he makes the mistake of opening his eyes, meeting Caleb’s gaze. They look so earnest, so patient, but underneath it there’s a fear lurking that mirrors Essek’s own.

_Oh_.

“Yes,” Essek rasps, reaching for Caleb’s knee, nearly knocking the popcorn bowl to the floor. “I’m looking at him right now.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Caleb grabs the bowl and moves it to the coffee table out of harm’s way. He slides toward Essek until his knee bumps against the drow’s thigh.

“I didn’t know how.” Essek’s terrified to so much as draw a breath, convinced that he’s going to wake up from this dream at any moment. “I didn’t know if you felt the same way and I couldn’t imagine losing you as a friend.”

“And how _do_ you feel about me?” Caleb asks, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

Essek turns, wrapping a hand around the back of Caleb’s neck. His skin is blazing hot, long hair brushing against his skin. “I feel like this.”

Essek presses their lips together in a barely-there touch and feels Caleb’s soft exhale against his face. He leans back, just enough to search Caleb’s eyes for any sign that was the right move.

Caleb grins at him, eyes hooded. “If you’re going to kiss me,” he says, “you better do it right.”

Essek’s brow furrows but he doesn’t have time to ask what that’s supposed to mean before Caleb is surging forward and—oh. Caleb’s lips are urgent on his, coaxing them open just enough for his tongue to slip inside.

It isn’t the first time for Essek but he wishes that it was. It’s definitely the first time he’s had someone else’s tongue in his mouth without it feeling intrusive or too dry or too wet. His hand tightens on the back of Caleb’s neck, not wanting him to move away. He thinks of _Let_ _’s Catch Up,_ hollows his checks, and sucks on Caleb’s tongue.

A moan vibrates through his mouth and Essek shivers.

Even with their mouths pressed together and Caleb’s knee digging into his thigh, the man feels _much_ too far away. Essek’s hand finds Caleb’s hip, pulling at his jeans until he takes the hint and straddles his lap.

Essek gasps at the feeling of Caleb’s weight pressing down on his thighs. He feels trapped, but not in a way that makes him want to escape. No, he wants to surrender to it, wants Caleb to keep him here, on this couch, until the stars fall.

“Well, what do you think?” Essek asks, trying to catch his breath while Caleb occupies himself kissing his forehead and cheeks. “Am I doing it right?”

“You’re doing excellent work.” Caleb ducks his head, presses his teeth against the curve of Essek’s jaw. “I give you an A+.”

“I don’t know,” Essek teases. “I think I might need more practice.”

Caleb nips at his neck, sharper this time. “If you want to keep kissing, all you have to do is say so.”

Essek doesn’t have time to come up with a reply before Caleb’s mouth is on his again. The earlier desperation fades into the background, replaced by something luxurious and indulgent. Essek pushes his tongue into Caleb’s mouth, making note of the way he shivers when he presses it upward.

Any concept of time slips away. It could be minutes or it could be hours, Essek doesn’t find the distinction the least bit important. His hands slide up underneath Caleb’s shirt, tracing the softness of his stomach and the thick brush of the hair on his chest. He’s tentative as he runs his fingers over Caleb’s nipples, wanting to know if they’re as sensitive as he imagined, not sure if it’s pushing too far.

Caleb gasps as he pulls out of the kiss, hands resting on Essek’s chest. His lips are cherry red and swollen, and there’s a pink flush around his cheeks and down his neck. He looks so beautiful that Essek’s breath catches in his throat.

“Is this okay?” Essek asks, reaching for Caleb’s shirt to pull it back down when all he wants is to take it off entirely and drink his fill.

Caleb reaches back with one hand and yanks it over his head. “It’s fine. I’m just—“ Caleb’s words break off in a low moan as Essek circles the pad of his thumb around one nipple. “That.”

Essek can’t stop staring, his eyes searching out every errant scar, every patch of hair, the definition of his collarbone. He tells himself to stop but he can’t, he wants to see, as he looks lower—the lines of Caleb’s ribs, the dip of his belly button, the V of his hips, and the trail of red hair leading down below his jeans.

He’s only interrupted by Caleb’s arms crossing over his line of sight, fingers wrapped around hem of Essek’s shirt. “May I?”

“Yes.” Essek sits up just enough to allow Caleb to pull his shirt over his head, baring his chest. He wishes for it back almost immediately, watching the way Caleb takes him in. He knows he’s nothing special but he feels pinned in place like a chemistry sample underneath a microscope.

“Gorgeous,” Caleb whispers, his broad hands spanning across Essek’s chest. His thumbs trip over his nipples but Essek hardly twitches. “Not doing it for you.”

“No.” Essek almost yanks his hands away from Caleb’s skin. “I’m sorry.”

Caleb shrugs, brushes his nails down Essek’s stomach. His muscles twitch and he very nearly lets out a whine at the sensation. “Don’t apologize. We’re learning each other.”

Essek’s hands slip down from Caleb’s waist, over the outside of his thighs. Caleb shivers. “I’ve never—done this before.”

“With a guy?”

“With anyone.” He lets his eyes travel down to Caleb’s waistband, to the bulge hidden beneath his jeans. “I’ve never _wanted_ to.”

“We don’t have to.” Caleb rests his hand on Essek’s cheek, thumb brushing over his lower lip. “Not now, not ever if it’s not what you want.”

“And if it _is_ what I want?” Essek brushes the backs of his fingers over Caleb’s jeans and finds that it’s true. He wants this, very much, except— “It’s not too soon, is it? Shouldn’t I take you out to dinner first? Or shouldn’t we, you know, talk about it?”

“We are talking about it.” Caleb chuckles and buries his hand in Essek’s hair. “As for dinner, you can take me out anytime, but it’s only too soon for sex if _you_ feel it’s too soon.”

“Caleb,” Essek says, and his own voice feels miles away, “can I touch you?”

“Please,” Caleb says, and Essek draws the zipper down. It takes a little wiggling to get Caleb’s jeans down enough but they manage.

“I’ve thought about this, all the time,” Essek confesses, as he wraps his fingers around the base of Caleb’s cock. It’s thicker than his own but not longer, and the patch of hair above it is the same red that he should’ve expected.

It’s true, he has thought about this moment, but the fantasies pale in comparison to the reality of the weight of Caleb’s cock against his palm, the warm drops of pre-come pearling at the tip, the softness of his skin.

“Show me,” Essek says, giving an experimental stroke. “Show me how you like it.”

“I’m not going to last long,” Caleb mutters as he twines his fingers with Essek’s, tightening his grip and setting a firm steady pace.

“That’s okay,” Essek says, matter of fact. He can’t take his eyes off the way Caleb’s cock looks underneath both their hands. “We can take it slow next time.”

Caleb moans at that, burying his face in the crook of Essek’s neck. His breath comes out in shuddering pants, hot and wet against Essek’s skin. His thighs are trembling. Essek misses the ability to see him, to see what their hands are doing, but he doesn’t want to give up the way the man is clinging to him, like he might be swept away otherwise.

“Are you close?” Essek asks, running his tongue along the shell of Caleb’s ear because it’s all he can reach.

Caleb whines, his nails digging half-moon pinpricks into Essek’s shoulders. Pre-come beads at the head of his cock and Essek swipes his thumb through it to ease the way. “Yes.”

“I want to see it,” Essek whispers right into Caleb’s ear. “Can I see you?”

“ _Fuck_ ,” Caleb hisses, and then his back tenses as he pushes himself upright. He’s dripping pre-come onto Essek’s shirt but Essek moans at the very sight of it, Caleb’s cock flushed a deep red as they continue to stroke.

“Gorgeous.” Essek tries to speed up the pace but Caleb tightens his grip on his hand, slowing him back down again. Tiny shudders run down Caleb’s spine and he can’t seem to catch his breath. “Will you come for me?”

Caleb doesn’t have time to answer. He throws his head back in a long moan as he does, coating both their stomachs in white. Essek watches his face: the flutters of his eyelashes, the tremble of his lips, the hard swallow as it comes to an end. Caleb releases Essek’s hand and laughs as he tries to catch his breath.

“That was hot,” Essek says, as casual as if he were discussing the theory of relativity.

“Glad you enjoyed the show,” Caleb says, wiggling his hips and nodding pointedly down at Essek’s own bulge. “Would you like me to do something about that?”

Essek wrinkles his nose. He’d been so caught up in Caleb’s pleasure that he hadn’t noticed the tightness of his jeans or the slightly unpleasant sensation of his boxers damp with pre-come. In response, he pulls down his own zipper, lifts up his hips to push down his jeans, and frees his cock to the cool air. It stands between them, fully hard and flushed purple. Caleb licks his lips as more pre-come drips from the head.

“Do you have anything specific in mind?” Caleb asks, hesitating with his hand just inches away. He meets Essek’s gaze, caution held like a wall in front of the desire inside.

Essek has a million things in mind, all the fantasies that have crept into his head or his dreams during the past couple weeks. The trouble is he can’t settle on any of them. He wants them _all_ and he isn’t sure how he’s meant to decide with Caleb staring at him with hazy eyes and swollen lips.

“Anything you want,” he says instead.

Caleb catches him in a quick kiss, brushing his tongue along his bottom lip, before he climbs off the couch.

“Wait,” Essek blurts out, “where are you going?”

“Not far.” Caleb rests a reassuring hand on Essek’s knee before he kneels between his spread thighs. “Can I blow you?”

“Fuck.” Essek reaches down, tangles his fingers in Caleb’s long hair. He feels like he might come at the very suggestion of it, before Caleb even manages to get his mouth on him. “Yes. _Yes._ _”_

“I’ve been wanting to do this for a long time,” Caleb says. Before Essek can ask exactly how long, Caleb is leaning in and taking his cock into his mouth. There’s no hesitation as he pushes forward, only stopping when the head bumps against the back of his throat. He breathes softly through his nose, wrapping his hand around the length that doesn’t fit into his mouth.

“Caleb,” Essek says, and finds that he can’t stop. He repeats his name like a litany, stroking Caleb’s locks between his fingers. His mouth is warm and wet and it feels _incredible_. A distant part of his brain considers that maybe there is a reason why everyone around him seems to be so obsessed with having sex and talking about having sex. If this is what it’s like for them all the time, he thinks he understands.

Caleb hollows his cheeks, sucking as he pulls back, and Essek lets out a whine. His hips jerk off the couch and Caleb braces one hand on his stomach, holding him in place. It’s too fast, too much, and Essek can already feel himself teetering on the edge. He tries to push it away, wants to make this last, but he can’t. He feels like he might burst.

Caleb curls his tongue around the crown and Essek is done for. “I’m going to come,” he warns, only a breath before he does. Caleb doesn’t even try to move away, seals his lips around Essek’s cock and swallows down every last drop.

“Wow,” Essek says, tugging Caleb back into his lap by the hair. “Will you kiss me?”

“I don’t mind.” Caleb meets him halfway. Essek shoves his tongue into his mouth, moaning as he tastes himself there. It’s more bitter than he expects but he ignores it. It’s the least that he can do. Caleb relaxes against him, letting Essek take whatever he needs, until Caleb has to pull away to breathe.

“Do you still want to come to dinner with me?” Caleb asks. With his reddened cheeks, swollen lips, and mussed-up hair, he looks wrecked. It’s a sight Essek wants to imprint on his brain so it can never slip away from him.

“Of course.” Essek trails his fingers over Caleb’s collarbone, considering all the bites and marks he can press there. It’s a streak of possessiveness that he’s never experienced before, but he feels an urge to tell the world that this man is _his_. “Somewhere nice, too. I don’t want our first date to be the dining hall.”

Caleb smirks at him. “Not even on chicken tenders day?”

“Not even then.” Essek runs his hands up Caleb’s chest, watching the way he shivers as his fingertips brush across his nipples. “That can be our _second_ date, though.”

“Nakamura’s, then. Friday, five o’clock. Do you have a suit?”

Essek quirks an eyebrow at him. “I don’t remember Nakamura’s having a dress code.”

“I just want to see you in a suit.” Caleb hooks a finger in Essek’s waistband. “Besides, I have a few great ideas for what we can do with your tie afterward.”

“What about _your_ tie?”

“I’ll let you think on that one.”

Essek smiles, catching one of Caleb’s hands. He presses a kiss to the back of it. “It’s a date.”

**Author's Note:**

> You can follow me on Twitter [@DotyTakeItDown](https://twitter.com/DotyTakeItDown) where I mostly scream about the latest episode of Critical Role.


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